


My Heart in Your Hand

by babs



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Slash, injured jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29410560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babs/pseuds/babs
Summary: Sometimes the hardest thing to do is let someone else take care of you.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20
Collections: Stargate Winter Fic Exchange 2020-21





	My Heart in Your Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bloodydemonic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodydemonic/gifts).



> Bloodydemonic asked for an injured Jack--slash or gen. It didn't quite make it the whole way to slash but Jack certainly is thinking about it.

"Keep both heart and hand in your own possession til you see good reason to part with them." --Anne Bronte

"I've got him, Sam," Daniel yelled into his radio. "Go, go, go!" He grabbed Jack's flak vest and pulled even as he knew there was no way he could make it to the Gate with the other man.

Shelter, seek shelter. He'd get Jack to the caves they'd been in earlier, tend to his wounds, and wait until Sam and Teal'c came back with reinforcements. He bent, heaved Jack's dead weight over his shoulder and took off at a shambling run away from the shooting and up towards the caves.

The weapons fire faded as he ventured deeper into the first cave with his burden. Now the paintings on the walls were unimportant and nothing mattered but getting Jack to safety.

He deposited Jack on the floor of the innermost chamber. The air was cool and dry and Daniel fumbled a bit to get the emergency blanket out of his pack, his hands shaking with adrenaline and fear. He lit the lantern knowing there was no way the natives were going to come into the cave—not with all the warnings that started the whole fiasco in the first place.

"Jack," he whispered as he put his fingers against Jack's neck. The pulse was there, weak, but there. "Jack, you with me?"

Jack moaned but didn't open his eyes even when Daniel patted his cheek. 

Okay, okay, you can do this, Daniel thought, his mind racing through all the first aid courses he'd taken both as an archaeologist and as a member of SG1. He got out the bandages, medicines, anything and everything he'd need. And then he took his first real look at Jack's injuries.

Jack had taken the brunt of the blasts. Blood covered Daniel's hands even as he applied the pressure bandages. Chest, leg, head. So much blood. The scent filled his nose and he wondered how much blood the human body could lose. 

He forced down the fear—Jack was not going to die. He wouldn't let him. He spoke while he worked, reassurances he didn't believe, trying to calm himself as much as he thought Jack needed to hear the words.

When he'd bandaged the best he could, having to use a change of clothes he had in his pack—not good, not good, he knew there was danger doing it but damn it, what choice did he have, he stumbled to the darkest corner of the chamber and threw up until he had nothing left in him.

A groan had him back at Jack's side in seconds. 

"Jack?"

"Dan…" His voice was barely there, but Jack was talking. That had to be good, right?

"We're in the caverns," Daniel told him, catching Jack's right hand as the other man brought it up towards his chest. "Sam and Teal'c went back for help."

Jack opened his eyes, pain dulling them. "You?"

"I'm fine," Daniel said. "Just fine."

"Cold."

"I know, I know." Daniel pulled the emergency blanket back over Jack's torso. "I'm gonna get you in a sleeping bag in a…" His hands shook. "Just, I need a minute."

"Yeah." Jack twisted his fingers in Daniel's. Daniel looked down at their hands, hadn't realized he'd never let go. "How bad?"

"Janet's going to fix you up just fine." Daniel knew Jack didn't believe him. 

"Can't feel," Jack said. "Cold."

"Yeah, sleeping bag…" Daniel untangled his fingers from Jack's, busied himself with placing the bag over Jack who was unconscious again.

He placed his fingers against Jack's wrist and counted hearbeats as if it was the only way he could keep Jack with him.

* * * *

"Jack?"

He was cold, so cold and he didn't understand why. They'd been on P2...P2...okay P2 something or other and then there were natives with weapons that shot fire and bolted projectiles and they were running for the Gate and then...nothing.

"Jack? You with me again?"

Fingers brushed his face, ghosted over his eyelids, and he tried to reach up his own hand to grab them, but he couldn't. Couldn't move, couldn't seem to find enough breath. He knew that voice, knew it was—Daniel? Daniel sounding frantic?

Okay O'Neill, open your eyes. Show him you're still here. He blinked and as his vision cleared in the dim light, he saw Daniel's face, eyebrows drawn down, teeth worrying his bottom lip.

"Daniel?" God, why did his voice sound so rough? More important why was it so hard to talk? "Whass goin on?" He could barely hear his own voice.

"You're going to be fine," Daniel said quickly. Too quickly, Jack thought. "You were hurt but Sam and Teal'c are coming back." He put his hand against Jack's cheek. "It's gonna be okay."

Jack knew that tone—the one that meant no, everything was not fine. That, in fact, everything was fucked up. That he was fucked up. Assess the situation. He wiggled his fingers, bent an elbow to bring up a hand. Shit, shit, shit. That hurt. He took in a deeper breath which hurt even more. He closed his eyes until the dizziness receded.

"You want to tell me what's going on?" Jack finally managed to say.

Daniel looked at him. He could see the moment Daniel decided to lie to him and then he knew just how bad it was. 

"You got shot. Sam and Teal'c got through the Gate. I grabbed you and brought you back to the cave. We're safe here." Daniel's voice was low, devoid of emotion. Since when did Daniel give sit reps that sparse? "You're going to be fine."

Daniel wanted to believe that last statement Jack knew. He was saying it not to reassure Jack, but rather himself. 

"How long?" Jack asked, having lost track of time. 

Daniel looked at his chronometer. "Three hours." He hit his hand on the stone floor. "Damn."

"Listen to me," Jack said, knowing that what he was about to say was going to be met with resistance. "You need to scout, see what's going on. The natives won't come near the caves and it's dark by now. I'll be okay and you'll be able to reach the Gate."

"I can't leave you," Daniel said just as Jack knew he would. "You're…" He scrubbed at his face with shaking hands. "If something happens to me and you're here and you.."

"Stop." Jack hated using that tone with Daniel, even if his voice didn't come out as harsh as he'd planned. "You need to do this."

Daniel looked at him, eyes bleak. 

"We both know I'm not gonna make it home under my own power. And I'd like to at least know that my team made it safely home." 

Jack closed his eyes when Daniel rubbed his thumb along Jack's cheek. 

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Daniel finally said. "You need to just hang on a little bit longer."

Jack nodded. "Go. You can do this. I trust you."

Daniel took a deep breath and moved the lantern closer to Jack, put a canteen near Jack's hand. "Okay."

Jack wasn't sure if the word was meant for him or it was Daniel trying to convince himself there would be a positive outcome.

He waited until he could no longer hear Daniel's footsteps and managed to push himself up onto one elbow. He'd known it was bad but looking at his leg in the lantern light, he understood why Daniel had felt the need to lie. He lowered back down, his body shaking.

Just live—that's all you gotta do, O'Neill. Just stay alive. You've always known that your time in the field has been limited. 

He took a few breaths, not as deep as he wanted for fear of setting off a coughing jag and then turned his attention to telling himself that Daniel was going to come back sooner rather than later. He put his hand up to switch on his com and then thought better of it. If the natives were still prowling, any noise would bring their attention to Daniel, and he wanted his whole team safe and sound even if he didn't make it through himself.

He forced himself to take a sip of water and then closed his eyes when his vision blurred. 

Just hang on. Hang on.

* * * *

Daniel forced his breathing to slow and resisted the urge to run full speed towards the Gate. He couldn't risk fallling in the dark, couldn't risk being found. He put a hand out to steady himself on a nearby tree and waited until his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the two crescent moons. 

There were sounds in the night—small animals that SG-1 had never seen on their short time on the planet, the rustling of birds in trees. He wondered how everything had gone so wrong. His fault—it had been his excitement over the talk of the caverns, his insisting on going inside to view the paintings. Forbidden, demons, unclean. The words that had been screamed at them as they made their way to the Gate and escape. Outnumbered, they hadn't had a chance to overcome the villagers. 

He stumbled on a tree root and winced as it jarred his back. Jack was counting on him and the Gate wasn't that far.

His breath quickened when he heard movement in the forest ahead. Much larger than any small mammal. He tried to remember if he'd seen any pictures of predators in the cave paintings. He froze, crouched down behind another tree, and strained to listen.

Voices. Oh God, there were voices. People. He couldn't identify any words. Were the natives headed for the caves despite the taboo? He closed his eyes in order to better concentrate.

Definitely a large group of people. How many? How many? Headed towards his position. Was it Sam and Teal'c with help? He put his hand to his radio and paused, unsure of what to do. His hand rested there, fingers shaking. He held his breath, clicked on and off and then finally spoke.

"This is SG1-Niner."

"Daniel?"

He fought the shaking and stood up. "Sam." His voice sounded strange to his ears and everything seemed to pass in a blur as he and Jack were swept up by Sam, Teal'c, and SG2 and 3. 

He found himself sitting on an infirmary bed with a blanket wrapped around him and Sam and Teal'c standing by him.

Sam's hand rested lightly on his shoulder and he stared down at his hands, tight with Jack's blood on them. 

God, he'd looked so bad in the light of the Gateroom. In the dim light of the cave, he hadn't been able to see how pale Jack was, how very fragile his friend looked.

And now...now it was a waiting game. Fraiser and Warner fighting to save the other man. 

He let Teal'c guide him to the showers after he was given the all clear and he stood under the spray watching Jack's blood swirl in the drain at his feet. He still didn't feel clean.

He gave his report to General Hammond, resisted Sam's urgings to settle in a bunk room, and went to his office to type up his mission report when the infirmary staff told them Doctor Fraiser would contact them when she was out of surgery.

"Daniel." Sam's voice startled him and he grabbed the coffee mug Jack had given him on his last birthday before it shattered on the cement floor of his lab.

"Is he…" His mouth went dry, his heart pounded.

She shook her head. "Not yet." She took his arm, gently. "You need to get something to eat."

Daniel pointed to his monitor. "I'm writing...I have to...the…"

"It'll wait," she said and urged him to stand. "You need to eat something. You're shaking."

He realized he'd lost time somewhere, had no idea how long they'd been back on base. 

"C'mon," Sam said. "Teal'c is waiting for us."

He gave in to the gentleness and let her sweep him along in a haze.

* * * *

There was a beeping noise and the cool swoosh of air in his nostrils. Jack opened his eyes and saw Doc Fraiser's smiling face. 

"Hey." His voice didn't sound quite right but at least it was there.

He remembered the sight of his leg and moved a hand towards it before the doctor caught it in hers.

"Gone?"

"No," she said, her voice firm. "Look at me."

He did—one thing he never did was ignore an order from one Doctor Janet Fraiser. 

"You're going to recover, sir. The weapons they used had some sort of anti-coagulant—and you're getting some more blood. But most of the wounds were more superficial than deep although it's going to take you awhile to get back to one hundred percent."

He nodded, his mouth gone dry and as if she'd known, she spooned some ice chips into his mouth. He went to take the cup from her and realized he couldn't lift his right arm.

"Doc?"

She grinned. "You have some company."

He looked down and to his right, only to see Daniel bent over, his head on the bed, sound asleep.

"He saved my life, Doc," Jack said. "Got me to safety. Bandaged me up."

"I know," Janet said. 

"You're not gonna make him go?" Jack asked. He took his left hand and touched Daniel's head, not surprised when there was no response, dead to the world as the other man was.

"I'm just glad he finally got some rest. We'll let him here for now unless it disturbs your sleep."

Jack looked at her. "He's good."

Fraiser nodded, checked the monitors, and walked away after patting his shoulder. "Jenny will check in in a little bit."

Whatever was in the IV was doing a very good job, Jack thought. He wasn't in any pain, was warm and comfortable.

He rubbed his fingers through Daniel's hair, a soothing motion, and closed his eyes.

* * * * 

Jack followed Daniel into the apartment. 

"I still don't see why I couldn't have recovered at my own house," he grumbled and then regretted it when he saw Daniel's shoulders tighten.

"Steps," Daniel said. He headed towards what Jack knew was the bedroom with the duffel bag. "Janet said no steps with the crutches for at least a week." His voice came back muffled from the other room.

Jack made his way to the bedroom, only to see Daniel pulling out his clothes. "Daniel?"

"Jack?"

"Why are you putting my clothes in your drawers?"

Daniel turned to him. "Because it'll be easier for you."

"Easier than pulling them out of the duffel in the living room?"

"Why would you come out to the living room to get dressed?" Daniel continued with his task. "When I'm done, you can lie down for a bit."

"I am not sleeping in your bed." Jack backed up a step. 

"It's a perfectly nice bed. Why wouldn't you?"

"The sofa's fine."

"Yes. And that's why I'm sleeping on it while you are here." Daniel closed the last drawer but didn't turn to face Jack.

"Okay." Jack knew when to bide his time. Sometimes it didn't pay to argue with a mule-headed Daniel Jackson. Sometimes sneakiness was the way to go.

Daniel nodded, his shoulders hunched before he turned around.

"I thought I'd make some soup and sandwiches, if that's okay with you." 

"Sounds good." Jack didn't fail to notice how Daniel's gaze landed anywhere but on Jack. He sat down on the bed, suddenly more tired than he was ready to admit.

"I'll, um, give you some time to, you know, settle in." Daniel motioned towards the doorway and then left before Jack could say another word. 

Jack stretched out on top of the comforter, mind not allowing him to rest despite his body telling him that sleep would be a good thing. 

Guilt, thy name is Daniel Jackson, he thought. Although why Daniel should have been feeling any guilt for something that was just, well, plain old typcial SG1 luck was beyond Jack's comprehension at the moment.

Jack lifted his arm to put it behind his head and winced at the pull on his chest and then was glad Daniel hadn't been there to see the wince. 

He waited until he heard Daniel moving around in the kitchen before he got up and made his limping way out to join him while he cooked.

They ate in mostly silence, Jack's only contribution a few comments about the good soup and the bread Daniel used for the sandwiches. Sara had always told him he wasn't any good at sharing his feelings or talking about the tough stuff. Except he was—with Daniel-- and what did that say about him?

Daniel insisted Jack remain seated while he cleaned up and as Jack watched, he knew he had to, at least for this night, allow Daniel to take care of him. It went against every grain of his being, and he wondered just how often Daniel felt the same when Jack did his whole over protective mother hen routine.

They played cards and despite his overwhelming tiredness, Jack still won every game—a testament to the fact that Daniel was probably even more tired.

He excused himself to bed and listened as Daniel settled down for his night's sleep also. And then he lay listening even harder to hear Daniel's breathing, to relax his own body and discovered that, no matter what, he couldn't quite let himself fall the whole way down.

He grabbed his crutches and went to the kitchen, doing his best to be quiet while he got a glass and filled it with water.

The TV was still on, although the sound had been muted, and the light played across Daniel's face. Jack frowned at the puffy eyes, the little worry line that formed between Daniel's eyebrows, and the way Daniel's hands weren't relaxed but tightened in fists on the coverlet that didn't reach the length of his body.

He knew—he knew why he couldn't fall asleep and he took a deep breath, fought down the urge to cough.

"Daniel."

He kept his voice soft, the way he would if they were on a mission and he'd have to wake his team because of danger.

Daniel opened his eyes, and Jack thought how it meant Daniel was still living on high alert, as unable as Jack to fall into the kind of sleep they both needed.

"Jack? What's wrong? Did you hurt yourself? Can I get you anything?"

"Come to bed," Jack said.

"I'm already in bed." Daniel passed his hand over his eyes. "Do you need an extra blanket? I can turn up the heat. Or if you're too hot, I can turn it down."

"I'm…" Jack paused and then forged ahead. "Come to your bed. The one I'm trying to sleep in. You're not going to get a good night's sleep out here."

"You aren't either."

Jack shook his head. "Look, your bed has more room than one of our tents and we do just fine in that on missions." 

When Daniel hesitated, he pulled out the big guns. "Please. I can't fall asleep."

Daniel squinted up at him and frowned. "Me. In your, well, my bed."

Jack just nodded and expected Daniel to follow, which the other man did although not without grumblings beneath his breath.

"I can hear you, you know." Jack couldn't resist a bit of teasing but when there was no response, he knew it had fallen flat.

He lay down in the bed while Daniel stood on the other side.

"I don't…"

"I can't sleep," Jack said. Simple truth. "Plenty of room."

He didn't turn when he felt Daniel finally climb in, felt the dip of the mattress, the cool air as Daniel pulled back the comforter and sheet before slipping under them. He didn't say anything as he heard Daniel's soft sighs, a sound familiar and somehow right and he didn't move as Daniel inched closer—seeking body heat as he did off-world. Carter had once said it was like having your own personal hot water bottle and she had managed to call dibs on sharing a tent with Daniel on those missions where the temperatures plummeted at night. At least she had until Jack caught onto her plotting. 

"There was so much blood," Daniel said. Jack heard him swallow, heard the little hitch of breath that meant Daniel was doing his best of hold it together. "And when you told me to leave, I thought…"

"You did good, Danny." The nickname came out without thought. "Couldn't have done more."

Daniel was quiet a long time after that and Jack thought he might have fallen asleep. Then Daniel placed an arm over Jack's middle, slowly, cautiously. He slid his hand down Jack's arm, rested his fingers on Jack's wrist, and Jack heard him counting softly.

He didn't remember a lot of what had happened in the cave, but he remembered waking with Daniel's fingers on his wrist, holding on, counting Jack's heartbeats as if the force of his will alone would keep Jack alive. Jack twisted his hand slightly, caught Daniel's hand, and pulled it up to rest over his heart. Daniel let out a soft oh as Jack rubbed his thumb against the fine bones of Daniel's hand, skimmed over calluses as familiar to him as his own. Daniel's breath was steady against his neck, slow, deep as Daniel gave into sleep.

And Jack pressed Daniel's hand even tighter against his heart where it had always belonged and let himself fall.


End file.
